The Snape Girl
by Queen of Debate
Summary: When Artemisia Snape dies suddenly, Severus Snape, her estranged brother, must take in his niece. Despite her uncle's protectiveness, Cordelia Snape struggles to balance her ambition, a dark calling, and love as she attends Hogwarts in the same year as the Golden Trio.


It was a nearly silent night. Usually, after the sun had set, the wind whistled through the trees and the windows rattle. Severus didn't notice. He sat at his desk, his head leaned against her palms as he wrote. He only ever moved to dip his quill in ink once more.

He had spent many a night in this position, ever since Lily had married that fool and had that bastard child. He worried for her. He had pleaded with the Dark Lord, asking him to spare her, but there would always be uncertainty. Dammit, he thought, dropping the quill. It was summer and Severus had thrown himself into preparing for the coming school year. It was his only salvation. If he was not constantly occupied, he wouldn't have to think about her.

As the summer drew to an end, he became even more on edge. The Dark Lord called for him more frequently now, trying to elicit any information, despite Severus having none. August had always been a torturous month. He never cared for the humidity and the heat. He spent most of the month in his house, because everywhere in Cokeworth he turned, there was a reminder of Lily. Whether it be at the playground where the first met or the street they once raced down, he could not escape the memories. It was hell, seeing the beauty he had once held that he had cost himself.

Severus buried his head in his hands. The memories, all of them, rushed to them, like water rushing out of a dam. He remembered the days they had spent together as children, playing and talking about the Wizarding world. He remembered the early Hogwarts years, where they would study together and complain about James Potter. He remembered that awful moment, when he was suspended in the air, when he called her that horrible name, and he remembered the horrible encounter by the portrait. He remembered seventh year, when he heard some girls gossiping about Lily and James and how she finally gave in. He remembered shaking as he saw the announcement of their marriage in the Prophet. He groaned in agony, balling his hands into fists. He punched the desk, his knuckles immediately throbbing. He pushed himself out of the chair. He had left his wand in the salon.

Wand in hand, he entered the kitchen. He opened up one of the cabinets. He had already exhausted the bottle of whiskey in his study. He needed to replenish his supply. He grabbed the bottle when he heard a knock at the front door. He placed the bottle on the counter before him and adjusted his grip on his wand. When he reached the door, he peered through the peephole. There was nobody in sight. Just to be sure, he slowly cracked it open. He looked down. There was a basket, filled with some sort of white cloth with something obviously beneath it. He parted the cloth, his dark eyes widening. An infant lie sleeping, a piece of parchment tucked beside it. He snatched up the parchment, unravelling it to reveal the message.

Dear Severus Snape,

It is with regret I inform you of the passing of your sister, Artemisia. She contracted a serious case of dragon pox in the last fortnight, and perished last night. I offer my condolences.

Artemisia, despite the estrangement she detailed to friends of hers, bequeathed all her assets to you upon her death, leaving no plan for her daughter, Cordelia. As both of your parents are also dead and the girl's father's whereabouts are unknown, you are now the sole guardian of your niece, according to Ministry Degree 811. If you do not wish to care for this child, you have the option to place her in an orphanage, which to do so, you must notify the Ministry. Thank you, and you have my deepest condolences.

Henry S. Fawley

Officer of the Department of Wizarding Family Affairs

The Ministry of Magic

Severus read over the letter multiple times. After his father abandoned him and his mother, taking Artemisia with him, he hadn't made contact with her. She attended Hogwarts, but their paths never crossed. He had been aware of his sister's marriage, to a drunk no less, and that he had left her just as his father had left his mother all those years ago, and that they shared a child that had been born the previous January. Frankly, he did not care. His sister was only associated with him by blood and was as good as a stranger. She was lazy and her husband was worse. It was no surprise the Ministry could not find him. He was probably rotting behind a pub in Romania.

He looked at the child. It was one, Severus calculated. He would have to care for her for ten years before it went off to Hogwarts. He couldn't possibly take it in. It would distract him from his duties to the Dark Lord and he knew nothing about caring for a child. No, he would place it in the Muggle, Catholic orphanage for girls a few miles east, where he could forget about it all together.

Not wanting to be seen by his Muggle neighbors, Severus hoisted up the basket and placed it in the entryway, closing the door. The thing woke from the commotion. It began to wail. Severus had always been irritated by babies crying, but he had never truly understood how atrocious of a sound it was. He plugged his ears and shushed it, but it would not stop. He rushed up to his study, the noise still audible and flipped through a book of elixirs. Nothing. There were no draughts to calm a crying infant. He moaned in desperation. He ran back downstairs and knelt beside the baskets. He placed his hands under its shoulders and pulled it up. He gently shook it up and the cries began to slow. When the sobs finally subsided, Severus looked at the thing. She, it was a girl, had mounds of dark hair and twinkling dark eyes. Her skin was creamy and fair. She was dressed in a cotton jumper. He sat down in a nearby chair and adjusted his hold so he was cradling it. Her eyelids drooped and soon she was asleep.

Severus placed her back in the basket. He couldn't just cast her aside as his own father did him. No, it would be a travesty to place a child with even the slightest bit of Prince blood flowing through her veins in the care of Muggles. He had to keep her. He could easily convert one of the sitting rooms on the upper level to a nursery and Narcissa was a good mother to her son. She could help him. He told himself that contacting the Ministry could lead to him being outed as a Death Eater. It was simply a matter of convenience. Anyone who thought otherwise was wrong, he insisted. He wrapped the blankets back around the girl and went to check if there were any foods appropriate for young children in his pantry.


End file.
